S O L O or L O V E
by TheStrangeFreakyMentalWriter
Summary: When you choose to grow up, are you ever ready for the price that comes with it. And can you show to others that you still need them. Alfred, sure can. And a catchy song to go with it. Read and Review. Song: SOLO by IYAZ


Freedom is never given out easy. You have to fight for the rights for it, with everything you got. That's what you always tell me. That day when I earned mine, I will never forget. But I'll never forget you, my brother, my father, my friend.

"Why, why America?" You'd cry, tears mixed with rain. But I know you did.

"You know why." I say to you, I know now that tone I used was uncalled for. "You used to be so big. What happen? Why did it have to come to this?"

Years have gone by, and yet it feels as it was yesterday. You look at me with a whole new look. But deep down, your still the same.

You cover your pain in drunkenness. And yet, you always fine your way to my front door. I never once turned you away and I won't start now. "Welcome." You walk pass me and head for the couch. Sleep begging for you to listen, but you choose not to.

"It's your birthday, you traitor."

"I am not. I wanted to be free and . . . "

"And what?!" Anger. This is new. You're mostly sad and grumpy, but never like this. "What more could anyone ask for! When I gave you everything! Through all the tears, sweat, and blood I gave up . . . so you could have a wonderful life! What more do you want?"

"You're love and to be an equal in your eyes." I grab your shoulders, so you don't move too much and hurt yourself.

Going back to the past. I will never forget them. All my best memories were with you and only you. "You really made this for me?" Thinking of what I said; as a child, when you made me those toys and knickknacks.

"Yes, with my own two hands . . . Well before I hurt my arm that is." When I saw you hurt, I was hurt also. I didn't want that. I never wanted to see you in any kind of pain. But when I was the one to give it. I died that day. I never really got my freedom, just a broken heart.

"England, don't go. You're not stable to leave." I hold you and guide you to the spare room. No way, I'm seeing you get hurt. Not on my birthday, asshole. "Stay the night."

"No, you might do something." A weak fight you give out, but your already out cold on the bed.

"I never had before and I don't plan to start now. Goodnight."

That's a lie. One time, just one time. We made love. It was tender and slow. You begging for my hands to do things to you that you never ask if you were sober.

How your little pink tongue can do so much with little words, you gave to me that night. The anime sounds we made, gave me chills. A reason I knew it was all real.

The taste of your sweat, tears, and seed are still fresh in my mind. And body. I never thought I would ever see that side of you and I hope . . . I was the only one to see it. That light pale skin that was once covered in my love bites in places I only knew and would see.

How my staff felt right within you to the rim.

Your virgin blood staining my sheets.

You never said stop, but was it a wise to keep going?

I stroke your cheek, calming your wide hair a bit, smoothing your face from the frown you gave as you rest. I won't have that. "I love you."

Three words I would never have the gulls to say to your face and maybe never will.

I leave you be.

Seeing as I don't trust myself at the moment.

I only made that mistake once. And I wanted it to stay that way. But I wanted you to remember it, too.

I swear for a moment I hear you speak, but think it's in my head and call it a night. After I take care of my _problem_.

The next morning came faster than before. You're up and back to normal. I keep my distance not to get my head chop off as you make you breakfast. I could wait. I like where my pride is.

"You sleep well?" The moment you sat down, I made my move.

"Snub off." Taking a sip of your tea.

"I'll take that as a **yes, and thank you for letting me use your guest room**." I don't want to play this game, but I will if I must. "England, do you need a ride to the next meeting or are you . . . "

"I don't need your help and/or pity."

"Okay, okay, relax, I was just . . . " Thank you, you wonderful phone for ringing. "Hello . . . "

It was France on the other line. I might not like to talk to him, but it's for the meeting. I can put up with it. I'm a hero, I can do anything and not be ashamed of it. Half truth, half lie. I know that you don't have to remind me.

Half way through, it was fine. A rare moment this came to be. I actually got a laugh leaving my lips. It felt good after last night and passed memories. I didn't know, when France was about to ask me one more thing . . . the line was cut off.

I turn to see England holding the power cord to the phone. "Hey, what was that for?"

"I don't want you talking to that frog so freely in my face." Your eyes are telling me something, but I don't know what they are saying.

"Still England, that's rude." I each for the cord, but it was pulled out of reach. "Okay, someone is acting like a small child now. And it's not me." I try again. "England, really man, knock it off!"

"I don't want to hear his voice or you around him. And that's final!" You drop the cord and run out of my house.

I didn't want you to. But I let you go, as I put my phone back in place and working again. Better get ready for the meeting.

The meeting is starting and you choose not to look at me in the face once.

Only when I'm favoring someone.

Or rush in when France is speaking with me.

The meeting is over. I feel like a need for a drink.

"America, come with me and thirst upon a drink with me." France said to me, a perv-y smile on his face. I turn another cheek and take on the offer.

"Sure, let me call my boss and tell them where I'll be." I reach for my phone, but I'm stopped.

"Don't go." A hand covered mine, as I reach for my cell.

Okay, he's really starting to get on my last nerve. "England, if your worry about what France will do. Come with." You and him really need to get over each of you past lives.

Maybe you coming was a bad idea. Your so drunk now, I feel sorry for those who won't get a drink. A cut off; sounds like a great idea. "England, you're done." I take away his mug, his foggy eyes showing no sign of coming back to earth any time soon.

"Don't worry about him, mon ami." France tells me, sipping what he says is the best wine ever. "You know he can never hold his liqueur." He places a friendly hand on my shoulder . . . I think.

The moment it touches me, it was slap away by England. "Don't touch him. You damn frog."

"En Angleterre, bon retour la vie." I don't know what France said to him, but he looks pissed off. "We thought it was just going to be just us."

"Sorry to disappoint you." There was a growl in his voice. "Now keep your hands off him!"

"That's it! You're going home." I move away from the two and move to the bar keeper. "Will you, my good sir, call a cab for a . . . pal of mine?" He says he will and leaves to do so.

"Sorry about that France."

"No need to say anything. It happens when people get jealous."

"What are you talking about?" Shaking my head of his bluffing words. "Why would he?"

"Oh mon Dieu, vous tes aveugle! Can't you see the lust in his eyes as you move about on this earth? The fire in his words when there is someone, like me, around you, that is not him."

"Do I need to call a cab for you, too?"

"One day, Amérique, you will see what I mean." I leave him, once I see his friends to keep him company.

My head is in pain. Not from all that beer, but France's words. They couldn't be true. England hates me. Even more, if he remembers that day. I would hate myself too, wait, I still hate myself for that.

I come close to my house. Walking was a great idea before the sky open up on me. Thanks to the weather's chill, my buzz died. What else could happen?

I'm soon up to my doorstep and see a body lying on ground. "England!" I rush to him and hope for the worst not to be true. "Please be okay!"

"I didn't want to be alone. I wanted you with me always be with me. Why did you break away from me?" I hear him speak, but I don't stop him as I get us both inside. "If you stayed, I would have given you everything. You're my son, my brother, my friend . . . my lover!" His tears wet my shirt that was soaked from the rain.

"What?" Did he say. . .

"You are, aren't you. You made love to me. You said you loved me!" He starts to weakly hit me. "But you act as if we did nothing that day or the words you told the night before." His eyes are red and hurt. "Were they all lies?! Was everything a lie? A way to break me and get what you want?!"

"No." Grabbing him to face me. "Never, but I knew you would never think the same way to me, as I do to you."

"Well, you thought wrong!" I can't see his face anymore as he hides it within my shirt. "I love you, and I won't let that frog take you away from me. Not this time."

"England that was years ago and you know nothing happen."

"I don't care! I don't want to see that ever again!" His shaky hands hold me tight. "You're my love, not his!"

"I heard you, but could you say that one more time. It's starts with _I _and ends with _You_.

"I love you." And we kiss.

As that night we had before, this one was better than the last.

His skin tastes much sweeter. His body more lewd then ever.

Tears and sweat mix with mine. But this time, their happy doing so. Our calls of the wild, were more powerful than last time. I want to stay deep within him forever.

I never want to leave this haven. England's arms hold me tight, bring me close. Letting us give silent calls to one another, for no one too else to hear.

Lips lock and air may never come back for us. Stars fill our eyes when the end is drawing. But we don't dare move away from each other.

Morning came, my body, mind, heart, and soul are in deep heaven and I can tell Eng . . . no, Arthur . . . no, Arty is feeling the same. As we rest by each other, with little keeping us apart. But that moment is broken when the phone rings.

"Hello? . . . " Its France. "Hey, what's up?" He gives me his day and asking what happen last night, until we were cut off. And I know who did it. "Arty! Again, man, very rude!"

He takes the phone away. "I told you before and I'll tell you again. Keep that bloodily frog away or say goodbye to your pride. Don't think I won't hang it on my mantle place."

"No! Don't do that! Then what could I, the hero, keep you happy with every night!"

"You win this round, but you won't next time."

"Good! Because, I'm not done with you after what happen last night." I rise above him. He looks so small, powerless, and frail. Something I needed to keep safe from the world. A reason and one of the few, of why I became independent.

"I can't wait to see what it could be . . . " Cutting off with a kiss.

The End


End file.
